Wishful Thinking
by lilaclila
Summary: Germany dwells on his thoughts of Italy and how their relationship is growing when Italy comes looking for him in a bar. Inspired by Wishful Thinking by the Trading Hearts


**Here's a little GerIta tidbit for everyone! Hope you enjoy it! The fic was inspired by the song _Wishful Thinking_ by the Trading Hearts. R&R :3**

_**Wishful Thinking**_

There he sat at the bar, just mere paces from Germany. How did he know that Italy would come looking for him? It might have been a stroke of luck for him to arrive the moment Germany went to the restroom. Germany watched as the barkeep handed Italy a colourful drink with an equally brightly hued cherry on top. He listened as Italy gave the barkeep a bright, "Grazie!" Germany found himself smiling to the sound of the bubbly Italian's voice. He leaned on the doorframe that bordered the alcove that led to the washrooms and thought for a moment about that voice. It was often whining about how unfair the training Germany had made mandatory for all his soldiers was, but was even more often engaged in spewing bright sounding nonsense about pasta or girls or the beautiful Italian sun. The emotion that could be expressed with such a voice was rich and thick, could send chills to your bones or bring a tear to your eye. Sometimes Germany felt himself being pulled to do these things when he listened to Italy. Any emotion could be gauged by that voice, tones of bright excitement, deep notes of passion, and even the uneven cries of terror. Germany cringed at his last thought, causing his eyebrows to knit together. So many times he had run to Italy's yells and screams, it was a major weakness. He could turn away and ignore the screams of soldiers inches away from death, not even compelled to say a word of comfort or even put them out of their misery, what made Italy so special? He used to believe it was because Italy was his ally, if he was hurt than danger wasn't far from Germany. It quickly just became one of his 'weaknesses', though the feeling of warmth that Germany felt from Italy's gratitude after he came running to his rescue couldn't go ignored for long. Germany looked towards the wayward Italian of his thoughts. The thought of Italy letting himself get into trouble and harm's way made Germany want to break things, but all he ended up doing was breaking himself down. In the past while Germany had been noticing Italy a little more. Things like how Italy may be babbling on about something but the way he acts, his body says so much more than the endless streams of words that seem to pour from his mouth, and it helped Germany understand the Italian a little more. Germany was convinced that by now he could write his own manual on how to understand Italy's body language. The way he slightly bites his lip and touches his thumbs to his fingers when he's lying or the way his shoulders would straighten and his eyebrows would go high when he asked for something hopefully were just a couple examples of this. Germany had learned to half ignore the words that came from Italy's mouth and focus on his body instead; his actions were usually more truthful to Italy's thoughts than his words would be. His new understanding of Italy made the German feel closer to him and enjoy his company a little more. Those feelings had been especially strong of late and with the waking of a terrible dream, Germany came to the realization of the truth behind these feelings. Now the time spent with the auburn-haired Italian felt like they were floating away on a calm ocean until reality became a hole in their boat and brought Germany back under its harsh truth. He found himself thinking wishful thoughts of developments in his relationship with Italy. Germany had become slightly frightened of these thoughts and realizations, thereby spending less time with the Italian for a few days past. Italy had noticed, obviously. Germany was just pondering whether to escape and pay the bartender tomorrow or hide in the bathroom until Italy left. It was too late by the time he pushed off the doorframe. Italy saw him and with a bubbly, "Germany!" he beckoned the blond over to the bar with a sip of his colourful drink. Germany could already feel himself floating away. After a glance at his smiling ally, Germany decided that perhaps for now, wishful thinking wasn't all bad.

**What do you think? I'd love it if you let me know! –v- **


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